


68. Breaking in the new playroom

by alley_oops, jennandanica



Series: Citadel: Sam Worthington and Ryan Kwanten [68]
Category: Actor RPF, Australian Actor RPF, Citadel (Journalfen RPG), True Blood RPF
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2008-11-03
Updated: 2008-11-03
Packaged: 2018-01-15 08:26:40
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,163
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1298134
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/alley_oops/pseuds/alley_oops, https://archiveofourown.org/users/jennandanica/pseuds/jennandanica





	68. Breaking in the new playroom

_**Ryan Kwanten breaks in the new playroom with Sam Worthington**_  
[current]

The room they've designated as their playroom has been off-limits to Sam for two whole days: first, for painting and soundproofing, and second, for delivery and assembly of Ryan's dream shopping list. It's only when the last Citadel rep has been generously tipped, right out the door, that Ryan goes to find Sam. "Toy number one," he announces, brandishing a simple leather blindfold. Grinning, he ties the blindfold over Sam's eyes and leads him carefully upstairs. "Are you ready for this?"

"More than ready," Sam murmurs, since it's been all he could do not to sneak down the hall and take a peek the last few days.

Ryan is proud and excited as a new father, pulling open the door and steering Sam inside. The room is now beautifully done in shades of blue and gray, the color scheme highlighted in details of slate and steel. A massive iron bedstead dominates one corner, coverlet turned down invitingly. At its foot is a bondage bench, and a St. Andrew's Cross stands in the opposite corner. Plain cabinets blend into one wall, filled with floggers, plugs, knives, and the like, and with plenty of space left over for Sam's imagination to go wild. One wall is entirely mirrored, reflecting a sex swing and a padded spanking bench. Ryan leads Sam into the center of the room and pulls the door shut before removing the blindfold.

Sam blinks a little when the leather is pulled away but then his eyes go wide, his mouth falling open. "Oh wow. This is brilliant," he says with a grin, taking it all in.

"You like it?" Ryan is nearly bouncing. "I tried to think of everything," he explains, looking around. "I mean, everything without being redundant. And look," he says, pulling open the door of a custom-made cabinet. "We've got, like, everything you could get in a Citadel room. We can do our own sharpening, our own cleaning... and there's lots of space left for whatever you think of." He throws Sam an excited grin.

"I think it's amazing," Sam says, checking out the cabinets. "And the room itself is really beautiful." He smiles at Ryan. "You did an incredible job," he says, pulling him for a kiss.

"I went a little crazy," Ryan confesses against Sam's lips. Not that Sam can't see it for himself. "You're going to get some very big bills from Cit."

"I don't care," Sam says, biting at Ryan's mouth. "It's totally worth it."

Ryan moans, melting a little at the edge of teeth. "Want to try it out?" He prays it's a stupid question.

Sam nods, licking into Ryan's mouth and then pulling away. "Yeah. Get naked."

"Yes, Sir." Ryan pulls off his t-shirt and tosses it in the direction of the bed, then steps out of his shorts. Throughout the rest of the house the windows are spread wide open to let in a fresh spring breeze, but the playroom still retains a slight winter chill. He shivers, his eyes hot on Sam.

Sam stands there, taking a moment to appreciate the sight. "Tomorrow," he says, reaching out to roll Ryan's nipples between his fingers. "Tomorrow we're going to go and get these pierced."

Ryan shudders with excitement, moving into Sam's touch. "Yes, Sir," he says, "please." It won't be permanent. But it's a hell of a good start.

"And then I'll have to wait until they heal to play with them," Sam says, pinching and twisting the small rigid nubs.

His breathing comes faster already, and Ryan moans. "What, like -- six weeks or something?" he hazards a guess. "You might have to play with my dick a lot more. To keep me busy."

"More like eight," Sam says, tugging even harder. "And that's just to be able to start playing with them gently." He grins. "I should pierce that too. Get it all done at once and coordinate the healing times."

Now that's just not playing fair, and Ryan whimpers, even as he smiles crookedly. "Anything else you want to do to me?" he asks, licking his lips as he puts his hands on Sam's hips, fingers curling just under the waistband of his jeans.

"I thought about tattooing you, branding you..." Sam says, watching Ryan closely. "You really want to know?"

"Yeah." Ryan nods, intrigued. As if his cock weren't rock hard already. "I do."

"These pierced," Sam says, giving Ryan's nipples another hard twist. "And this," one hand dropping to slap his cock. "Right through the slit." His own cock throbbing sharply, pressing insistently against the zipper of his jeans. "Brand on the back of your shoulder, or your hip." He grins. "Maybe both. And," hands going to Ryan's ass, tugging him close, his fingers dipping between his lover's cheeks, "tattoo right here," circling a inch or so out from his hole.

"So there's never any doubt in anyone's mind," Ryan says, breathless now at the spike of pain mixed with a soft caress. "For the rest of my life, anyone could take one look at me and know that I'm owned."

"Yeah." Sam nods. Most of it had been fantasy but now, with the way Ryan's looking at him, the way his cock's harder than ever, very suddenly it's not. Not just fantasy at all. "You want that?"

"To have your marks cut into my skin, burned there?" Ryan slips his hand beneath Sam's shirt, fingertips toying over soft skin. "You really have to ask?"

"Yeah, I do," Sam says softly. Seriously. "I would never mark you permanently without making doubly sure it was what you wanted."

Ryan nods, his eyes steady on Sam's. "You make as sure as you need to," he whispers. "I'll be ready when you are."

Sam smiles. "Okay. We'll take it one thing at a time," he says. "That way I can savour each mark before we put the next one on you." His smile widening. "Undress me."

"Yes, Sir." Ryan murmurs the words, ducking his head on his own smile. He slips his hands beneath Sam's shirt, sliding up his chest. Simply savouring the feeling of warm bare skin against his fingertips for a moment before he begins to obey, tugging the hem up and pulling Sam's t-shirt off over his head. He kneels slowly, taking his time kissing his way down Sam's chest until he's at his waist, licking and tasting the skin there as he unbuckles the belt, then drops Sam's jeans to his feet.

It's like being worshipped, the way Ryan follows his orders, his touches, his mouth, almost reverential. And it leaves Sam so achingly hard he can barely breathe. Can barely issue the next order. "The spanking bench," he says, stepping out of the puddled denim. "I want you over it."

The words make Ryan's gut knot up, sending a wave of lust pulsing through him. He crawls across the room to the spanking bench and kneels up, draping his body over the padded top and grabbing the sturdy wooden frame. Presenting his ass.

Sam gives a low groan at the sight, his cock jerking, precome welling at the tip. He moves behind Ryan and runs his hand over his ass, over the too-perfect skin. He'll have to fix that.

Ryan shivers at the touch, anticipation washing through him. He swallows hard and firms up his position, his breathing already quickening.

"Good boy." Sam draws his hand back and brings his palm in sharply against Ryan's ass.

Even when it's expected, the first blow always makes Ryan jump. He gasps, feeling heat flood him in contrast to the sharp strike of Sam's hand.

The gasp goes straight to Sam's cock and he slaps Ryan again. One cheek and then the other and then another blow right across both.

Ryan moans and spreads his thighs a little wider. God, he loves this. Loves feeling so vulnerable, so fucking owned. His last spanking ended in a fight because of his own stupid ego. Not today.

"So fucking beautiful," Sam murmurs, laying into Ryan, palm connecting with his ass over and over, the rhythm steady and unfaltering.

Endorphins start rushing through Ryan's body, each blow a crest of pain melting into delicious heat. He whimpers softly, happily, flexing his fingers in his tight hold on the bench. "Thank you, Sir."

"You're welcome," Sam murmurs. "Christ. I love that you're such a painslut." Spanking Ryan even harder.

"Love that you're... oh god." Slut, indeed. Ryan's rocking his hips now, rubbing his cock against the bench even though he knows he shouldn't; it just pushes him to the edge that much faster. But he can't help it, like he can't help the smears of precome on the padded vinyl.

Sam chuckles and switches hands, the right one starting to go numb. Nudges Ryan's legs apart a little wider and lights into him again, determined to deepen that shade of red, see him bruised by the end.

Ryan sinks his teeth into his bottom lip but the whimpers get louder anyway. His ass is starting to feel raw, every blow shoving him closer to the limits of his fraying control. "Please... please, Sir!" he bursts out, his body suddenly rigid, muscles tense. "Please give me a cock ring, Sir!"

"Since you asked so nicely..." Sam grins, stepping away for a moment and coming back with a leather cock ring which he snaps nice and tight around Ryan's cock and balls. "Better?"

In answer Ryan just moans, pain warring with sheer relief. "Oh fuckme thank you Sir," he breathes, backing away from the edge. He still needs, god. But at least he can take more now.

Sam's grin widens. "You're welcome. Now keep still." Ryan getting only a second's warning before Sam leans in, hands on the very edges of the bench and sinks his teeth into one cherry-red cheek.

Ryan's shout fills the room. Tears spring into his eyes and he pants for breath. Hands in tight fists he works to obey even though he's reeling with shock and lust.

Pulling back slightly, Sam licks over the mark he's made and then bites into the other cheek, equally hard.

This time it's a howl, and every line of Ryan's body is drawn taut with tension. Thank fuck for the cock ring.

Licking over the second mark, Sam grins against the heated skin, his own cock throbbing sharply. He pushes back upright and lays into Ryan again, counting down fifty in his head.

Each strike rocks Ryan forward against the bench now, nearly a beating for his cock as much as for his ass. He is dizzy with sensation, holding on tight with his hands but swimming through every blow. "Sir," he mumbles, feeling dream-like, the raw edges slurring. "My Sir."

Sam nods. "Yours," he breathes, wrist aching now, the palm gone numb. Only halfway through. "Just like you're mine. My boy. Every inch of you. Everything. And you know what I want?"

Ryan shakes his head, and has to swallow hard before he can find his voice. "Please tell me."

"I want you in tears, begging me to stop," Sam says, continuing to spank Ryan.

The tears are there already, haunting the backs of Ryan's eyelids. But if he's to beg Sam to stop... "Paddle," he suggests softly, trying to focus. "Please."

Sam nods and pulls away, going back to the cabinets for a simple wooden paddle, his palm stinging as he wraps his hand around the handle, the weight of it perfectly balanced. Ryan's ass is now completely red, streaks of blue starting to show where the bruises are going to form, his cock hanging heavy, thick, wet at the tip, bound by black leather. Sam brings the wood in against both cheeks with a sharp crack.

Ryan shouts, tension flooding him in an instant. Christ, his ass is on _fire!_ He gasps hard, trying to catch his breath, his grip on the bench white-knuckled.

Each strike shudders right up into his shoulder but Sam doesn't falter. Tears and begging he'd said and tears and begging he'd meant. His cock growing impossibly harder with each and every blow.

Ryan doesn't even notice when he starts to cry; it's just a smooth transition from one state to another. And that limit is rapidly approaching, the one where he's too fucking overwhelmed to maintain the way he is. He can taste it coming.

Counting off blows in his head, Sam watches Ryan closely, watching for any sign that he's taking things too far, pushing Ryan too hard. Pushing Ryan past where he _would_ safeword if he still had a safeword to give.

And then suddenly there it is. If the bench weren't holding him up then Ryan would crumple to the floor, curling in on himself. "Sir," he begs, feeling like he's pushing through molasses, fighting to make himself speak. "Mercy! Please, mercy!"

Sam drops the paddle and moves between Ryan's legs, running his hands over his ass, tracing those streaks of blue.

Ryan hisses at the touch, whimpering a little. "Please," he whispers, gently rocking his bound cock against the bench. "Please."

It's getting harder and harder to deny Ryan but Sam still holds out. Slides his thumb between his lover's cheeks, pressing against his hole but not in.

So close, so close... Ryan whines and rubs back against Sam's thumb, trying to force him deeper.

Fuck. It's that whine. The way it reaches deep inside him, making his cock throb so violently he'd swear he's going to come right there and then. Sam lines up, hands gripping and thumbs spreading Ryan's cheeks, and pushes in slowly, solidly, until he's balls deep. Snug inside his boy.

"Ohgod," Ryan chokes out, gasping for breath, trying to get hold of himself. He flexes tight around Sam's cock, feeling him so fucking heavy and full. Every time his body tenses streaks of fire move through abused muscles, lighting him up. Making him want even more.

His grip firm, Sam pulls back, almost all the way out, just the tip of his cock still inside Ryan before he pushes back in. Hard. Burying himself once more. And again.

Ryan sobs. His head is swimming with ecstasy, pain and fire and lust all muddled together in a colourful wash. He angles back against Sam and his raw ass throbs, cock desperate in its ring.

"Good boy," Sam murmurs, fucking Ryan even harder, his cock shoved into Ryan's pain-tightened hole, the sheer heat making his head spin, his body flush tight with pleasure. "That's it. Come on."

It takes everything Ryan has to focus, to grip the edges of the bench and push back against Sam. He's nothing but raw sensation now, his entire world narrowed to the slam of Sam's cock inside his body.

"Oh fuck," Sam groans, the sound welling up from low in his chest, one hand reaching between them to unsnap the ring. " _Now._ " His orgasm slamming into him, so fucking hard his vision goes white with the force of it.

In an instant Ryan starts coming, relief and pleasure rushing through him, exploding through the pain. Singeing every nerve until he collapses boneless against the bench, his breath thundering.

Still buried deep inside Ryan, Sam rocks his hips a few times, savouring the feel. He draws back slowly, his cock popping free, hands spreading Ryan's battered cheeks once again so he can see inside him, see his come right there. "Dirty boy," he murmurs, leaning in to lick at Ryan's hole.

Ryan whimpers, the sound drawn out and weak. Just when he'd thought he couldn't be _more_ overwhelmed, Sam goes and does... that. Ryan shivers, hyper-sensitive. "God, Sir," he whispers, shuddering with aftershocks. Every stroke of Sam's tongue rocking through him like a blow.

Sam licks deeper, searching out every last drop of his own come.

By the time he's finished, Ryan is nearly keening. He's just a mass of raw nerves at this point, every sinful touch shooting straight to his core and unraveling him even further.

Drawing back finally, Sam licks at Ryan's cock, flicking his tongue over the tip. "Think you can manage a second time?" he asks, grinning widely.

Ryan cries out, jerking away from the super-heated touch.

But Sam goes after him, hands still firm on his hips, still holding him in place as he takes the soft flesh of his cock into his mouth and sucks.

"Oh god oh god oh fuck," Ryan babbles. It _hurts_ , fuck, sparks streaking through him even as his body rises to the occasion. He whines, his breathing still uneven, eyes rolling back in his head as his cock hardens impossibly, swelling in Sam's mouth.

Sam licks and sucks and pulls off to take Ryan's balls into his mouth, teeth grazing the soft flesh before he goes back to his cock again, tongue delving into the slit as he takes him deep and then deeper, head nudging the back of his throat. Arousal coiling again in the pit of his stomach at pushing Ryan this hard, at the whimpers and babbling that greet every touch of his mouth.

Ryan is losing it. He'd thought he had nothing left but Sam demands response, showing no mercy, and Ryan's desperation of before was nothing to this. He begs mindlessly, fingers blindly grasping at the bench, and warning surges through him. "P- please," he gasps. "Permission, Sir!"

Sam lets Ryan's cock slip from his mouth but only long enough to say yes before he's sucking him back in, harder than before, demanding everything Ryan has as his.

Three seconds more, four... and Ryan comes with a keening whimper, spurting weakly into Sam's mouth. Every drop wrung out of him until he feels limp as a dishrag, swaying slightly against the bench. Head spinning.

Every last drop swallowed, Sam rocks to his feet. He helps Ryan up from the bench, slowly, and walks him to the bed, pulling the covers down. "Lie down. On your front," he orders.

Ryan obeys without a word. Hell, he's got nothing left, and sinks muzzily into the sheets, so fucking grateful simply to be horizontal.

Sam lies down beside him, hand on the small of Ryan's back and kisses the soft skin behind his ear. "My good boy," he whispers.

"Mmm." Praise is good. For once it's competing with the bed for which is better, though. Ryan reaches out and drapes his arm over Sam's hip, too wasted to do anything more.

"Can I get you some water or anything?" Sam asks, suddenly realizing that's the only thing the room doesn't have. A mini-fridge.

"No," Ryan mutters, his hold on Sam tightening for a second. "Just you."

"Okay," Sam says with a smile, kissing Ryan's shoulder. "I'll wait on you hand and foot later."

The only answer he gets is the soft sound of Ryan's breathing. It takes a lot to wear Ryan out. But Sam manages it with flair.  



End file.
